The Step Up Games
by LostTribe
Summary: In a dystopian world of the future, dancers are forced to dance in a competition where only one will come out alive. (Basically, the "Step Up" stories in a "Hunger Games" universe)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is partially a parody. Please keep this in mind, as there are blatant references to things that would otherwise not fit in a drama. Also, it is my first fic, so please be kind! **

It's the future, and the world has become a dark place. The divide between the rich and the poor has only gotten wider. In a statement of protest and unrest, the poor had taken to dancing in flash-mob style on the streets. The rich did not approve, and war broke out to subdue those who dared to dance in this horrid street – or hip hop - fashion (rather than a beautiful ballet or the sort). The rich won, and now their people live in a place of prosperity and pop culture known as the Center (though those who sided with the poor, or are caught dancing street-style, are ejected from this place of peace). The poor are divided into Sectors.

The Center now approves of their dancing – but only for the Center's own pleasure. To mock the old uses of the dance and to remind the poor of their place, the Center made a game. Every two or three years, a group of dancers from each sector are recruited to compete against other dancers. These dance-offs appear on large screens throughout the Center, making them a spectacle. It starts as crew vs crew, until only two remain, at which point all remaining dancers must compete as individuals. At the end of these dances, the citizens of the Center vote for their favorite. The losers die nearly instantly through a variety of means decided by citizens (or leaders) of the Center. It usually is something done to them via the microchip implanted in every Sector citizen. This continues until only one dancer remains: The winner of the Step Up Games.

Today is the Harvest, the time in which a different representative from the Center comes to each sector to announce the dancers chosen to compete. No one likes this day, since only one (if any) of so many returns each time.

This day is particularly hard for Blake Collins. He steps off the train in Sector 2, amid the dust and graffiti, surrounded by guards. They wear an armor of white that already is starting to stain at the feet from the grime in the sector. Fortunately, they are dropped off just outside of the stage.

Past the shade of a tunnel, he steps into the light of the city's core, where a large, recently re-painted stage stands high above an open field, the only clean thing in an otherwise filthy environment. As Blake climbs the steps onto the stage, he looks out into the crowd of sullen faces, hoping not to see the person he knows is there. They use to both live in Sector 2, before the divide happened. Blake had pleaded for him to come to the Center, but the man refused. _It's because of his stupid love for that street dancing, _Blake thinks, still searching the crowd. _It's because of that girl…_

Andie West watches Blake from the crowd. _He never liked me_, she recalls, remembering a simpler time when that could only mean that she wasn't accepted to the Maryland School of the Arts. Now it could be something more deadly. She takes a deep breath and stretches her fingers before gripping Chase's hand. His fingers clench over her hand, hurting it. But the pain is good – it means they are both still alive.

When Blake reaches the podium, his eyes meet hers, and quickly turn to her right. She sees his jaw tighten, and feels the man next to her stiffen. In an attempt to comfort Chase, she grips his hand tighter. She looks to him, and notices the same intensity on his face as sits on Blake's. A family trait it seems.

"We're going to be okay," she says. Chase takes his eyes off of his brother (the one he often calls a traitor) to look at her. An attempt at a smile forms briefly on his face, but it dissipates quickly as the Center theme plays over speakers surrounding the area.

Three large screens in front of displays a logo so pristine that it somehow loops back to ugly as the music comes on full – a piece that's all strings and flowing movement, with no discernible beat. As the sound decreases in volume, the logo on the screens fades into larger versions of the man standing at the podium in front of them. Andie feels Chase turn away from the screens, leaning towards her to press a kiss into her hair. She knows it's just a distraction for him, but she pulls him closer for it anyway, leaning her head onto him.

"Welcome," Blake begins. Andie ignores the screens and watches him right in front of her. Chase continues to notice everything in any other direction. Blake continues his speech:

"Welcome to the 74th annual Step Up Games. This is a time not to be feared, but to be celebrated. This is a time to bring glory, honor, and wealth not only to yourself, but to your sector." He pauses a moment, as if people are to cheer. When the silence lingers too long, he continues. "Since I am originally, and will always be in my heart, from Sector 2, I hope that you can make us proud. The best will be sent out, and the even better will be the one to return. Let that be someone from here this year."

Something falters in his already grim voice. It catches Andie's ear, and she straightens up. He was looking at her and Chase with his last sentence, and pauses a moment on them before his eyes pull away, his speech coming to a close.

"So let us be glad to begin," he says in his best grandiose voice, a slight quiver giving him away, "with your president."

He dramatically lifts his arm towards the screen, which, instead of showing him lifting his arm towards the screen, dissolves to a man with whitened hair. Everyone knows him, but the screen still displays his title: President Winters.

Winters smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"My citizens," he begins. "I am delighted to have you all united on this wonderful occasion."

"'Cause nothing unites liking dividing us against each other, right?" says a familiar voice to Andie's left.

Andie looks over at her friend. He stands by her side, with the mess of dark curls that is his hair blocking a part of his face. It's grown longer this year. Robert Alexander III watches the screen, his expression is glazed over with thoughts elsewhere.

"Moose," Andie says in greeting. He smiles and quickly and nods at her before turning back to the screen.

While Chase is tense, his grip tight in Andie's hand, Moose can't seem to sit still. His fingers wiggle, his feet cause his whole body to bounce. Andie notes that she, herself, has a tell of her nerves: Her free hand taps her leg without rhythm.

President Winters is brief this year. Before Andie is even done looking at Moose, she can hear the president say, "but enough from me. Lets remember why it began."

The screen dissolves to a map of the country. A voice over, a sensual feminine tone, begins:

"Before the sectors were formed, the world was in chaos…"

It was the start of the traditional Step Up Games video, the one that tells the history that was mentioned previously in this story. But it tells the story from the Center's perspective: The appalling appearance of hip hop unexpectedly. An old couple stares, mouths agape, aghast at the sight. It shifts to the riots, claiming those dark days were caused by the uncontrolled street dancing, rather than both being the result of unrest.

"Fortunately," the voice over continues, "our great leaders found a way to bring peace and order back to the land: Keep the people organized into sectors, and ban all street dancing…"

It shows the military force as the hero, the thing that saves everyone. It doesn't show it how Andie remembers: The screams, the tears. Moose and his girlfriend Camille being literally pulled from each other's arms. (Andie holds Chase's hand a little more firmly, grateful to have him by her side in this moment.) The butt of a weapon striking Tyler Gage across the face simply for continuing to dance in protest. Andie hasn't seen him since that day, and a part of her hopes it stays that way.

The screens call Andie's attention again as the sultry woman's voice finishes the familiar video's narration:

"Let us begin… the Harvest."

A lump forms in Andie's throat and stays there no matter how many times she swallows. She notes her own foot tapping, her legs shifting. How can Chase be such a stone?

The screens dissolve, from the video to a live feed of a crowd and a podium. But it is a different sector, a different group standing around nervously. Andie knows it, since she used to visit the area before the separation had started: Sector 1. The crowd is too dense to pick anyone person out, but there's one in the crowd for which Andie searches. She knows she won't find him.

Before she can find anyone, the screen switches to a close up on the podium. A woman with short, blond hair and small eyes stands at the front. She's a contemporary choreographer. Andie remembers her from the pre-division days.

The woman clears her throat and leans down a little too close to the microphone. She comes through loud and mildly unclear.

"In the crew," she starts, "for Sector 1 will be…"

The list of names begin. Andie knows very few of them, but knows enough to believe they won't be returning home from the Games. It is now widely known that the Center picks who will be competing in each games, and how many from each sector. Andie wonders to herself what these men and women did that has the Center wishing them all dead.

"The last member of the crew," the woman says, still having not moved back from the mic. She pauses here, lingering in the sentence, as if it will draw out her time in the spot light.

Finally, she says two words. Two words that seem to have a seismic effect on the ground beneath Andie, making her lose her balance just a little. (She remains standing thanks to the tight grip of one Chase Collins). Two words that cause Andie's heart to sink to the pit of her stomach.

"Tyler Gage!"

He walks to the stage from somewhere unknown to Andie. In a blink, he's there, standing on the stage next to the rest of a crew that seems doomed to failure. She can't help but wonder if he was the target all along somehow, that the others are pawns to see his certain fall, something that would otherwise not likely happen.

"No," Andie hears herself say. Chase's hand slips out of hers and strokes her back, an attempt at comfort. She can feel Moose on her other side, hugging her.

But the moment dies quickly. The screens fill with Blake Collins at the podium. It's their turn to see who is called to join the crew.

She watches him in person, ignoring the screens on either side of him. He's looking down at some notes and wipes his brow. The list is already right there in front of him. He knows the names he's about to call. Andie studies his face, trying to read her or Chase's fate on it.

"In the crew for Sector 2," he starts. His voice is much smaller than the woman's was – much smaller than it is on an average day, even. Andie feels her heart pounding heavier at this. Blake continues to look down at his notes, glancing up at the crowd. A part of her wonders if he will be asked to return with this display, and for a moment that distracts her.

But only for a moment.

"Robert 'Moose' Alexander the third."

Andie looks to her friend. Moose makes eye contact with no one, though a gloss covers his eyes and his mouth contorts, as if he is trying to force a smile. Once he starts walking forward, he succeeds in allowing a quick look around and an artificial smile to appear.

"It's alright," he says, looking at his friends in an apparent daze. "I can win this."

He's soon on the stage, staring out above the crowd. He's failing at keeping the smile on his face, and gives in to the frown that wants to be there. His nervous bounce is visible from where Andie can see him.

It doesn't get much better from there. Andie can only watch as Hair, Kido, Fly, Monster, Cable, Missy and Smiles all end up on that stage. She recognizes each of them and knows their skills. _At least they have a better chance than sector 1_, Andie thinks. She is still close to some of them, too: Kido and Missy danced by her side during some of her hardest times. Her mind moves farther back, going back to a time that she knew all of them.

The drum of her heartbeat sounds like a fast-pace death march as she realizes what is happening.

"It's our crew," she says in a panicked whisper. "It's our crew."

"What?" Chase starts, turning his grim expression away from the stage to meet her eyes. "Andie, calm down and tell me what you mean."

But she can't calm down. Three others she doesn't recognize join her friends on stage, but it doesn't lull her into a sense of security.

"It's the MSA crew," she sputters out, her voice starting to rise. "They're harvesting the whole MSA crew, which means-"

"Andie West." Blake's voice interrupts her, confirming her fear. Without thinking, her body numb, she pulls away from Chase. She's pretty sure she hears him saying "no," but it sounds like it's coming through a wall.

"I volunteer!" Chase shouts, but it is in vain: Everyone knows they stopped taking volunteers after that Kat girl caused so much trouble.

Andie feels herself slip from his outstretched hands and walk up to the stage. She doesn't even remember walking up the steps, but she is soon standing between the podium and Kido.

The crowd looks like blotches of colors before everything becomes all too clear. She sees Chase staring in despair from the crowd, but she doesn't look at him for too long. She watches Blake instead, saying a silent prayer that he is ending things there.

But he isn't. She can tell. From next to him, she sees his lip quivering, a streak of moisture escaping from the corner of his eye. "And," he says, but his voice breaks and he grips onto the podium, an attempt to regain composure.

"No," Andie whispers to him urgently. He takes a deep breath and continues:

"And the last member of the crew – "

"I'm the last, say it – "

"- for sector 2 – "

"Blake, please."

She hates to plead. But she needs to. She will do anything to possibly spare him. It seems to work. Blake chokes a second and looks at her. He bites his lip, forcing himself to remain composed. But he shakes his head and mouths, "I can't." He looks back to the crowd, destroying Andie's hope in the process:

"Chase Collins."


	2. Chapter 2

Sean sits in a room by himself. The harvest of the sectors has passed, and now he waits for anyone from the sector to come say goodbye before he is sent to the Center for training.

After he saw how sector 2 went down – with the MSA crew all being harvested – he had a sinking feeling that the same thing would happen for the Mob as well. Sure enough, Eddy's sitting in a room to his left, Penelope in a room to his right. Each waiting to say what could be their final goodbyes.

The door creaks open gently, and Sean knows who it is. Sarah's head comes around the corner before the rest of her. She's getting taller every day, a little more wisdom behind her youthful eyes. He wonders if he will be around to see her start asking about boys, maybe even dating them. He knows what it means for him to see that, and his hands start to shake.

"Hey, sweet pea," he says to her softly. It's a tone reserved only for his niece.

"Hi, uncle Sean," she responds. The smile that she usually wears is gone. She frowns, knowing all too well that the people they've known that have gone into the games haven't returned. Without another word, her arms wrap as far as the can around his much-larger torso. She buries her head into his front, somewhere between his ribs and chest.

"Hi, uncle Sean," another voice says, copying (though not mimicking) the younger girl. Sean's sister (and mother to Sarah) steps through the door. She smiles weakly at both of them. Sean smiles back, imitating the careless calm of his sister. Sarah pulls away to watch them both, and Sean knows she is assessing how worried she should be. He keeps a smile in the corner of his mouth, just enough to help ease Sarah's mind.

"Good to see you, Claire."

"So," she starts, "you get to dance again. At least that's something."

He lets out a single, weak laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"Isn't that always what you wanted to do?" He could hear the frustration in her voice. His sister never entirely condoned the devotion he had for dance. It had surprised that, when the opportunity arose, she didn't go to the Center. Instead, she's here, by his side. Claire supports him in front of others, even when the pair don't agree behind closed doors. Choosing to stay in Sector 4 is the ultimate testament to that, a fact that Sean has never forgotten.

"You're absolutely right," he answers, surprising himself with how confident he sounds. "It's what I was born to do."

"And you're the best," Sarah speaks up, looking at him from his side. "So you're going to win, right?"

Sean looks between the two of them, the only people to visit him in his hour before departure. The sister who sacrifices so much to stay with him. Water wells up in her eyes and she blinks the tears into streaks across her face. The niece who looks up to him. Sees the best in him, even now, with her eyes wide with hope. These two are his family, and they are the only family he has left.

Penelope and Eddy – and all of the others in the rooms around him – fade from his mind. They dissolve into a darkness as his mind pinpoints its entire focus onto the two people in front of him, the family that is alive. They are the only family that is guaranteed to be alive after all of this. And as much as he needs them in his life, he knows they are equally unready to give him up. Everyone else becomes a blur… or something standing in the way of returning to these two.

"Yes. I have to."


	3. Chapter 3

Andie sits at a window, watching the scenery rush past and waiting for her last chance to see her home. The train passes through a tunnel, and then, she sees it: Skyscrapers form the familiar skyline, flat roofs of shorter buildings scattered about in a forlorn grey that exists solely in sector 2. It grows smaller as she looks at it, and already she misses it. But there are more important things for her mind to think about right now.

The car is full of her old friends and fellow crew mates. A few people she doesn't recognize are in the car next door. Most conversation is kept to a library tone. Kido and Missy sit huddled close in whispers. Monster, Fly and Hair are looking out the window opposite of where Andie sits. She can tell they are tired, wearied just from being chosen. Only Cable and Smiles are enjoying the complimentary food on the train, eating on the floor, using an ottoman as their table.

A chin is resting on Andie's head from the man behind her. As comforting as it is at the moment to have Chase there, and anxious twinge aches in her stomach with every touch. She give anything and everything to have him safely growing distant with the sector that's diminishing before her eyes. But there's nothing that can be done except enjoy his presence while they still have each other.

She glances towards Moose, who is staring blankly out the window next to her. He is the reason they are on the train right now, rather than saying farewell to what friends are left behind. His own harvest had done his nerves up in a knot, but it had no effect like watching his girlfriend's name get called. Andie didn't shriek, didn't scream when Chase came net to her. (At least they were together). But when he heard Camille's name, it was like a fire had been set off in Moose. He knocked down two guards (and Andie is pretty sure he gave Blake a black eye in the process) before he was subdued. Then, instead of watching the rest of the Harvest (as most crews do), they were whisked immediately off onto the train without another word. Moose had been in solitary confinement, and is newly allowed with the rest of them.

He hasn't said a word since the incident, and everyone is giving him the space he likely still needs. Andie watches him now, considering approaching him. The sympathetic pain for Moose is a relief to the sorrow Chase makes her feel right now. She slips out of his hands, stroking her shoulders on either side, to move closer to Moose. She sits down beside him on a bench-style seat next to the window and pretends to look out with him.

"How're you doing?" she says without turning to face him. She can feel his eyes glance at her before looking on at the ever-changing scenery. The grimy green that surrounds the city is transforming into a desert, brown and barren, before her eyes. He says nothing, so she decides to continue.

"She might make it through this, Moose. You don't know."

"And if she does," he begins, his voice hoarse, like someone hit him right in the vocal chords. "If she does, what does that mean for us?"

Andie is taken aback. She is surprised he speaks again so soon, and so darkly. He stares at her, his usual optimism drained, left somewhere on the stage back in Sector 2.

"We could be fine, too," she defends, struggling to find a reason they could all be okay. The optimism is usually Moose's place, and Andie doesn't fit well into the role reversal.

"They spare someone from another crew," a third voice enters the conversation. Chase. He pulls up an ottoman from the center of the open car to form a circle with them. "We could win, and they could spare her, or-"

Chase is cut off by Moose's harsh reality. "That's just for the preliminaries!" He rises from his seat, looking down at the lovebirds. "After that, it's the final Games. And only one dancer comes back from that."

"We can't worry-" Andie starts, cut off again by her friend. She instantly forgives him, understanding his pain.

"Look around you," he says. "Even if we're one of the crews that make it to the end, only one of us will make it out from this. If you're going home, then I'm not. If you're going home, then Chase is-"

"I know." Andie's turn to interrupt. She stares at Moose sternly, and he is instantly silenced. "I can't think about that right now."

He shakes his head. "And I can't not." And with that, he heads to the car door, likely looking for a more empty train car.

The conversations grow still. Whatever food is still on Cable and Smiles's ottoman remains uneaten.


End file.
